


Remember Me.

by CountlessUntruths (KaliCephirot)



Category: Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 00:56:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8869513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliCephirot/pseuds/CountlessUntruths
Summary: For a superhero, amnesia seems to be the least of evils. Still alive, not dismembered, mostly functional, not in a hellish war dimension, not a zombie, not evil, not a skrull in disguise. All good things, right? And like, it’s kinda maybe fixable?Clint doesn’t know her.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Вспомни меня](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14037060) by [fytbolistka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fytbolistka/pseuds/fytbolistka), [WTFHawkeye2018](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WTFHawkeye2018/pseuds/WTFHawkeye2018)



For a superhero, amnesia seems to be the least of evils. Still alive, not dismembered, mostly functional, not in a hellish war dimension, not a zombie, not evil, not a skrull in disguise. All good things, right? And like, it’s kinda maybe fixable?

Clint doesn’t know her.

Kate knows it’s not personal. Like, he doesn’t know Black Widow nor his ex-wife, or like, Captain America. He doesn’t know Lucky, either, so she knows it’s not personal, it’s not like he walked around picking and choosing what or who to remember. He forgot everything: the circus and supervillain brother and their weekly non-dates-because-they’re-not-dating pizza-and-movie-marathons. It’s not like Clint went asking ‘oh, hey, do you think that you could cause a concussion that will leave me in a coma and when I wake up I won’t even know my name? That’ll be ace’. It’d be easier to explain her anger if that was the case.

He knows how to talk and walk, at least, and he knows the basics like maths and reading and writing, so he didn’t forget everything. Muscle memory is a thing of beauty, because when Clint picks up a bow he still knows how to shoot. If he hadn’t, Kate knows she would’ve punched him. In the balls. And that would be unfair to this Clint, because this Clint isn’t to blame for the old Clint’s idiotness and the whole getting-hit-on-the-head-constantly.

This Clint is going to start walking around with a helmet, 'tho.

(Kate hates, hates, HATES thinking of it like that. This Clint, her Clint. It feels familiar because it’s speaking in past tense and pretense tense. It makes it seem as if Clint has died, and Kate is pretty sure that if she keeps on thinking of it like that, she might actually lose it).

She has a key: has had forever, it seems. She still rings and waits until the door to Clint’s apartment opens. His eyes still look sort of bruised over, some new scars forming. He knows her, and at least he still has good memory for faces and names (ha! get that? good memory. an amnesiac).

(God, Clint has to come back so she doesn’t have to be the solo Hawkeye. So he can take his stupid sense of humor back).

“Kate?” No nicknames. This Clint doesn’t do nicknames. Kate misses them the way she misses Cassie braiding her hair or her mother singing lullabies.

Lucky looks at her with his sad, wet eye from behind Clint’s legs. It grounds Kate..

“We watch movies every Saturday. Unless work calls,” she takes a deep breath. She doesn’t smile because she hates smiling when she doesn’t feel like it, but she tries to remember how Cassie was, how easier it was to be friendly and warm. “I’m not sure if you have plans?”

“Is it another plan to get me to remember?” He sounds tired. “'cause they’ve tried everything.”

Even magic. She knows. She asked Billy the same.

She shrugs. “Not really. Just to watch the movie. And, you know. Get to know each other again. See if we can be friends o not.”

He looks wary. She can’t remember Clint ever not trusting her. They have this thing, this partnership that she has seen with Cap and Bucky, this whole thing where even if her team looked at her as if her plan was wacko-doodle, Clint would just go with it. Now that trust isn’t there and she might actually cry.

“… okay, why not,” Clint sighs, opening the door. “Hope you know how to use the stupid control. Too many buttons.”

Some things never change, Kate thinks, and she holds on to that thought as hard as she can until she can find her smile.

“Sure, that I can do.”


End file.
